


Lay Me Gently In The Cold Dark Earth

by number_of_the_beast_is_666



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Drowning, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 08:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21491524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/number_of_the_beast_is_666/pseuds/number_of_the_beast_is_666
Summary: When my time comes aroundLay me gently in the cold dark earthNo grave can hold my body downI'll crawl home to herErik is going under.Charles is there to keep him afloat.Lyrics from Hozier's "Work Song"Comments would be appreciated.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Lay Me Gently In The Cold Dark Earth

It’s too late to wait for the water to heat up.  
Erik would rather just take a cold bath and then sleep for as many hours as possible. At least, that would be preferable. Ignore Charles and Raven and his own thoughts.

The smell of the matches sends Erik to a time that seems so long ago. Lighting the candles of the menorah with his mother, the same sulphuric smell was present then. It tugs at his chest. And leads his mind to thoughts of Charles. The telepath who had unearthed that memory, one he had long forgotten, to gain control of the power pulsing through him. The telepath who had been alongside him to catch Shaw. The telepath with the kind smile and soft voice. The telepath whose heart he had watched break as he saw - and felt - Erik murder a man in cold blood.

Erik finished lighting the few candles illuminating the tiled bathroom, softening the chill that ran bone-deep. He pushed all thoughts of Shaw out of his mind. The seething hatred and the gratification at his death. He struck them from his head and replaced them with Charles.  
The thought of his joy when Erik moved the satellite dish, his pride, the thought of Charles’ delight when one of the new recruits agreed to help.

The man was sunshine in human form, and God, was he addictive.  
Even when he wasn’t smiling, he still gave off a calm aura, one of serenity and peace.  
Erik had clambered into the bathtub by now, spilling water onto the white tiled floor when he leant to turn off the taps. Goosebumps ran up his arms at the sudden drop in temperature, although the distraction was welcomed. He sank back into the water, wetting his hair and face.  
He could lose himself in thoughts of Charles, happily so. His sweet words and understanding eyes. His compassion. His wonder and delight, that on par with a child when it came to new mutants’ abilities.

The passion he showed, for his studies, books, research. For his friends.  
The emotion he showed. Bright eyes at Raven’s jokes and Hank’s not-so-subtle crushing on said girl.  
The pain in his eyes on the beach. The disconnect he moved with after that. Not speaking much at all, and avoiding Erik as much as possible. He didn’t talk to Erik for four days after he killed Shaw. Didn’t touch him for twelve. Even then, only to notify him of the other’s presence.  
Charles.  
Erik would have expected to see anger directed towards him after Cuba, but there was only disappointment. Anger he could deal with. He’d been seeing that since day one. But disappointment? From someone he held in such high regard?  
Charles.  
Raven’s eyes showed pity. Pity that Erik wasn’t able to follow through with his previous intentions of mutant pride, maybe, but Erik never was one to wallow in pity, so he had managed to steer clear of her for a while.  
Charles.  
He knew what Erik had wanted. What he still wanted. It wasn’t especially easy to hide your plans away from a telepath, even one as polite as Charles. With Raven knowing as well, that was more minds to project thoughts about it.  
Charles.  
Erik felt a certain emptiness, a sense of being adrift. He had done the one thing he was set to accomplish. He had completed the task he had promised to complete those many years ago at Auschwitz. Shaw was dead. Now where was his own head? Adrift on a wide sea, sinking with reckless abandon and no hope of resurfacing.  
Charles.  
He had to hope that Charles would be there to pull him back up from the depths.  
Charles.

Icy hands grasped at his shoulders, pulling him to the surface. A hand found it’s way onto his face and another onto his back steadying him as the sudden loss of balance made him lightheaded.  
Erik gasped for breath, lungs heavy as iron, dragging him back into the water it seemed, held above by only the sheer will of the hands.  
He wrenched his eyes open, meeting eyes with the person he’d least expected to see.  
Charles.

As his body adjusted itself, he realized Charles’ hands were not ice cold, but pleasantly warm, contrasting with Erik’s skin.  
He found his hands grasping Charles’ biceps, holding on for life, as one would to a life raft. He was grounding, an anchor inside a tornado; steadfast and unfaltering.  
His hearing was indistinct, still affected by the water, but he could tell Charles was speaking.  
Charles’ face was flushed, shirt damp and sticking to him - from both sweat and water- his normally neat hair ruffled. Like he’d been doing rigorous activity. What? He had been in the house all day, Erik was sure of it. 

“What the hell were you doing!? Were you just going to lie there and let yourself drown?” Charles’ usually kind face was contorted by worry, brows knitting together as he shouted at Erik.  
His expression softened as he saw the look in Erik’s eyes. Like a deer caught in headlights, frozen with fear.  
Erik realized he’d locked his door before getting in the bath. Charles hadn’t broken it had he? It would explain the flushed complexion of the usually pale professor.  
Charles’ hand moved to the side of Erik’s neck, moving his head around so they were facing one another.

“Just calm your mind, Erik, please calm your mind.” Erik’s hands make a grab for Charles’ shirt, clasping the fabric tight, knuckles white with the pressure. Both men can see his desperation, clawing it’s way to the top, finally breaking the surface of the water, rearing it’s ugly head for them to see.  
As Erik’s panting slows, his grip on the other’s shirt eases and the intensity fades.  
“Shaw?” Charles’ question comes out softly, voice strained with emotion, although Erik cannot tell what emotion it is.  
Erik opens his mouth to respond but nothing wants to come out, so he settles a small nod.  
Both pause, the only sound in the room being Erik’s still slowing breathing, and he’s sure you must be able to hear his heart, it’s beating so strongly.

“You’re- You-re synonymous with happiness. In my mind. Happiness died with my mother and was reborn when I was in that water with you in my head.” Another pause. “Even if I didn’t know it.”  
Erik is aware of Charles’ taken aback expression and notes it down in his brain. Adds it to his already vast file on the wonder that is professor Charles Xavier.  
He then does something that even surprises himself. He stops thinking for a moment, and leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss onto Charles’ mouth.  
If he thought the younger man looked shocked before, that was incomparable to now. Erik looks away from his shocked face, looking at his own hand wrapped around Charles’ shirt collar.  
“How could you tell I was…. Struggling? Did you get in my head?” He says, idly rubbing at the plastic button on Charles’ collar. The other man blinks rapidly before frowning, creases appearing on his forehead.  
“You were shouting, screaming, for me. I couldn’t have not heard it.” Erik’s brow furrows at this, but he doesn’t say anything, just moves his hand up to stroke Charles’ jaw gently.  
Charles cheeks flush red at this, eyes flicking downwards to the floor before moving back up to Erik’s face.  
“Can we skip back to-to what that was?” His voice is softer now, ware that Erik is significantly out of it, considering that he was continuing to stroke his fingers over Charles’ face.

“I was thinking about mama- my mother and..” He takes a deep breath, “And you. Everything gets overwhelming, so I think about her and you because you calm it. Quell whatever storm may arise. I… Got lost. Momentarily. Now I’m found.” They meet eyes again, and Charles’ smiles sadly. They both can know what he’s thinking, even without the use of telepathy. He wants to make it so that Erik doesn’t need to be found. To make it so he’s not ever lost.

“Please, whenever, you feel like that - lost - come to me. Night or day. I will always be there. We can talk, just sit, or play chess, even. Just, don’t endanger yourself. I don’t want to lose you in a more literal sense, either.” Charles can feel his eyes burn with tears and wills them not to fall.  
Erik, hand still on Charles’ face, pulls them both together and places another kiss onto the other’s lips. Charles takes a moment to respond, but kisses back, delicately, like Erik is fine china, easily broken and precious beyond words. The tenderness between them is enough to suffocate, and both are struggling not to.

As they pull back, Charles glances down at Erik, noticing he’s still submerged in icy cold water and naked as the day he was born. Blushing furiously, Charles turns away quickly, stammering out an apology.  
“An apology is not necessary, my friend. Would you grab my towel, please?” Erik chuckles at Charles’ awkwardness, rather used to it already but it never fails to amuse. Erik is struck with the realization that, this man in front of him, although being astoundingly smart and powerful, can be brought to a blushing mess so easily. It’s rather endearing.  
Standing, Erik grabs the proffered towel, wrapping it around his waist and laughing once again at Charles, standing rigidly, staring at the wall.  
He opened the bathroom door, grinning at the snapped lock. Charles had done that? Rather impressive, Erik thought.

Both men’s heads shot up at the small cough as they entered Erik’s bedroom, noticing Hank standing at the door. Charles felt his face heat up, realizing what exactly this looked like.

“When, uh, you have a-a… Minute, I need to discuss, um, something, please, thanks.” Hank said to the pair, turning on his heel and all but running out of the room.

Charles and Erik looked at each other, bursting into laughter when they made eye contact. This whole situation was odd enough to begin with and now Hank was quite probably making assumptions about the two. Not entirely wrong assumptions if the kisses they had shared were anything to go off, though.


End file.
